


Blood For Blood

by krowe (k_rowe)



Series: Mission Report [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: And moral support, Boys don't talk about feelings, I mean they DO talk a bout some feelings, Jason is terrible at flirting, M/M, Mild Language, Tim is also awkward toward Jason's overtures, Tim is kind of savage once or twice, Tim is sad his dad is dead, because they're busy talking about murder, enthusiastic use of itallics, implied developing relationship, mentions cannon typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_rowe/pseuds/krowe
Summary: Tim and Jason discuss murder and hard choices and grow closer. Sort of.





	

When Tim had said _I’ll make breakfast_ Jason had expected eggs and bacon. Or pancakes. Or even microwave oatmeal. But Tim served dry toast and an orange to Jason and brewed himself a tall mug of coffee. They both complained about the sleeping arrangements but Jason felt in the right; the couch was little better than the floor. Tim ought to have been more gracious when Jason offered Tim his bed. He’d maybe even expected Tim to suggest sharing. Had been prepared to say _if you insist_ but Tim turned out to be in a shit mood. Jason found out why in the morning after much prying; Captain Boomerang's parole hearing was later than day.

"Let's do it, Tim. Dent and Harkness. Avenge our fathers. Kill them for what they did to us."

Tim put his coffee down and stared at Jason, one eyebrow higher than the other. The bruises under his eyes looked darker in the harsh kitchen light. They were seated across the island counter from each other. "Did you skip the day we talked about justice, not vengeance?"

The inclination to smirk was supplanted by an unexpected chill in Jason. "What changed _your_ mind then?"

"What are you talking about?” The one eyebrow dropped and the two scrunched closer to meet in the middle. The way Tim’s lower eyelids rose and his curious blue eyes were darkened in the slit between thick lashes, made Jason feel uncomfortable. Even more, the way Tim’s little fingers cupped Jason’s mug. So Jason did not look anymore.

Jason found that the grout between the tiles of the kitchen floor looked dingy and worn. Jason thought he could clean and fill between them on the weekend. Jason scratched an itch on his arm. The panes of the kitchen window were flecked water spots from the blowing rain earlier.

“What do you mean?”

Jason looked at Tim because Tim sounded puzzled and Jason liked the way the other boy looked when he was confused. Jason wanted to look away again as soon as he saw Tim’s face, but the other boy did not look away. Because Tim was not a coward. Jason said frankly, "you. Kill. Him. Harkness. In your dreams. Every damn night. I’ve heard you before.”

Tim did, after all, look away. He looked at the countertop and traced a ribbon of quartz through the granite. "That's none of your— they're just nightmares."

"What are you afraid of then? Afraid you might have been wrong letting him live? Wished Bats hadn't stopped you?" Jason saw something smooth the crease between Tim’s eyes. But he didn’t know if it was what Jason said, or something Tim was keeping to himself. So Jason nettled on, “I thought Red Robin was his own man. But you're still cowering under Bruce’s cape, afraid to question your indoctrination."

"I saw you're still wearing a bat,” said Tim smugly and he drank deep from his coffee. Tim was learning to deflect like a real Robin. Jason might have been proud except he was annoyed.

"Guilty,” said Jason. It came out sounding as careless as it felt gut wrenching. “I'm as much a victim of Bruce's psychosis as you.” Jason wished he had coffee to sip casually. “If you don't get out now you'll spend the rest of your short, miserable life wondering if it's really you making the hard choices."

"By _get out_ do you mean getting myself blown up?"

It was really painful when Jason’s heart skipped a beat. Jason was careful to betray none of it, except to resume his original point without responding. It’s own kind of weakness. “Did you really think thirteen-year-old-you stood a chance against Bruce? The man is certifiable. He might love you, Tim. But he’s wrong about what you need. Embrace your instincts. Harkness has to pay."

"He has.” Tim drank his coffee until the mug was empty. He pushed away from the counter and the stool grated on the tile floor with the worn grout and he went to the sink with his mug. Tim said, to the grimy kitchen window, “He’s in jail.”

"For _theft_. For _now._ Pay in blood for blood."

"Then why haven't you killed Joker? _Blood for blood_ like you said. You could have clipped him from a mile and nobody would know." Tim kept looking out the window so Jason talked to Tim’s back.

"I realized that's not my debt to pay. That's on Bruce. Like how it's on you to avenge your father. Don't fail him like Bruce failed me."

"He wouldn't want me to."

"He might. He could have changed his mind if he'd known he was going to die."

"He knew. God. He knew. But dad told me he loved me. Lots of other times. And. In the end.” Tim sounded anguished but he turned around and his eyes were dry. Just sunken. “If Bruce had the chance to tell you the same, in your last moments, one more time, you wouldn’t hurt so much. You might not hate him so much."

Jason wished Tim was looking out the window again but he’d been holding on to the words so long he thought he’d never get rid of them. "I love Bruce. I wouldn't do what I do if he didn't mean everything to me.” A pause two heart beats long. “That's why I have to be better than him, complete his mission. Honor him."

Tim crossed his arms over his chest. "Bullshit,” he said. “You're selfish and a killer."

"Okay.” Jason’s stool scraped on the tile floor too, but he pushed it back in under the ledge of the kitchen island. “It _was_ bullshit.” It wasn’t bullshit. “And I _am_ a killer." Jason felt his face fold and crease into something defensive. It was an unfamiliar sensation. "But I'm not selfish."

Tim shrugged. "Weren't you planning to kill Two Face for yourself?"

"Weren't you listening? For my dad."

"But you didn't kill him. It's been years. You only brought it up today. Why was he different?”

"He’s not. Just kept moving down my hit list. Dad was kind of a loser. I'm in no hurry. But don't think I'll die again before I do it."

"You already spared Two Face once,” said Tim.

"You know he almost killed Dick? In the early days. The kid’s voice hadn’t even changed yet. And the bastard beat him bloody and broken." Jason raised an eyebrow, like he was the one hearing for the first time something mildly interesting. Tim looked mortified. "I didn't know it at the time. I don't know if that would have changed my mind. When I stood over Dent’s body. Would I have killed him for Dick? I didn’t, not for my dad. He was… my _dad._ But he was also a dumbass, third-rate crook in over his head and I thought— I thought I’d beaten Two Face. I didn’t think he'd kill anyone else's dad after that. _He was in jail_. Forever, I thought." Tim looked sick and it made something cruel well in Jason’s gut. "There's only one way to stop monsters like Two Face from beating or— _and—_ orphaning more children."

Tim looked away from Jason, at just the right angle Jason saw light glint off the wet of Tim’s pale cheeks. Tim touched his face and Jason could just see an expression of disbelief writ in Tim’s brow. "No there's not," said Tim dully. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand then stuck both hands in his pockets, exhaling. "There is _nothing_ stopping him from coming back. Dent, I mean. If you killed him. He’ll just come back. Like Harkness did.” Tim blinked irregularly but Jason didn’t see any more tears. “ _Why_ would _he_ come back?" asked Tim bitterly, glancing at Jason helplessly. "And not my dad?"

"God's a capricious bitch." It was all the words Jason could find.

Tim's mouth twisted like he wanted to laugh but it wasn't in him. It wasn’t in Jason either.

“Your coffee sucks ass.”

“You looked like you were enjoying the ass sucking.”

Tim blushed and tripped over his feet barreling out of the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing happens. Nobody changes. Or kisses. I'm sorry. The only thing they can agree on is life is full of shit.


End file.
